A Sea Unto Itself by Jay Worrall Page B

I will begin an official inquiry into who did this immediately after the men’s breakfast.” He paused for a moment in thought. “We’ll start by questioning some of the able seaman, and then the others. Somebody must have seen something.”
    *****.
    Jason Harley appeared promptly and respectfully in Charles’ cabin when sent for. Charles sat behind his table, the able seaman standing easily across from him. After Harley was sworn in, Lieutenant Winchester laboriously wrote down the questions and replies for the record from the table’s end. He wrote:.
    Captain Edgemont: Do you know that seaman Stimson was found dead last night?.
    Able seaman Harley: Yes, sir, I heared of it. Busted his fool neck, he did.
    Capt: Do you have any knowledge as to who might have done it?.
    Harley: No, sir. I thought it must of been some kind of accident. Those things happens all the time.
    Capt: At any time during the middle watch did you observe or hear anything out of place?.
    Harley: No, sir. I were asleep in my hammock. I didn't see or hear nothing.
    Capt: Do you have any personal feelings about the victim?.
    Harley: Yes, sir. Dickie-boy Stimson was a little sh. . . , person what didn't know what was good for him or how to treat with his betters. (more in this vein, but irrelevant to inquiry).
    All of the half-dozen able seamen Charles interviewed gave much the same story. Others of the crew, those known to be the man’s associates or mess mates, were called next. None could, or would, shed any light on the matter. None saw Stimson or anyone else go below to the hold, heard any commotion, heard any rumor of any commotion, or expressed anything but cautious respect for the deceased. Charles learned that his entire crew, at least on the word of those he interviewed, spent their nights in the undisturbed repose of the truly innocent and never stooped so low as to pry into the concerns of others or to indulge in idle gossip.
    All except possibly one. Last, Charles called Jeremy Roberts—a harelip in his forties, covered in tattoos, with a lazy eye and wildly disheveled hair—who had found the body.
    Captain Edgemont: When did you discover Stimson and where?.
    Landsman Roberts: Don't know the time. It were dark. Might have been nighttime. I were in the 'old under the orlop.
    Capt: Did you touch or move the body after you discovered it?.
    Roberts: Oh, no, sir. I only tripped and fell on it like. I knew it were a man though, it were soft.
    Capt: Didn't you have a light?.
    Roberts: Of course not. A lanthorn scares away the spirits.
    Capt: Spirits?.
    Roberts: The spirit of John Trambor for one, sir. 'E’s got my wife in the hold, do you see, to 'ave 'is way with 'er. I search real quiet when I can. I’ll catch them at it yet.
    Capt: Your wife?.
    Roberts: Yes, Aggie. We been married these two hundred years and more, since the time of 'Enry the Eighth. She was married to 'im too. At first I thought she might have been fornicatin' with Stimson, but I told you he were soft, so I don’t think so now. She were always free with her favors. Bless 'er black 'eart.
    Capt: King Henry the Eighth?.
    Roberts: 'E were a lustful man, don't you know.
    Capt: Yes, I do. Thank you Roberts, you’ve been most helpful.
    Charles ordered that Stimson’s body be consigned to the deep immediately after the men’s dinner. The crew were called to stand in their divisions, the marines aligned on the quarterdeck, and a pulpit rigged by the mainmast for the ceremony. He watched carefully for signs of dissension as the men sorted themselves into their places. Some among the able seamen shouldered their way roughly past the younger men, receiving angry looks and words in return. Inevitably, one offended topman, younger and fitter, shoved back. The two men quickly faced off with supporters for each gathering around.
    “Avast, there!” Charles shouted. “Belay that. Petty officers, you will keep order among your men, or I’ll know the reason. Get them into their